Wrong Time in a Certain Warped Space
by Kistyra
Summary: So I was just at the park, enjoying a fairly nice late fall day, when I seem to have fallen into either a prison cell, a different universe, a prank, or my subconscious. Unfortunately, the first two make the most sense at this point.
1. Chapter 1

I woke up after a late night with Kami. Mom took a separate car because she'd planned to be late that night with an old high school friend. Me and Kami drove up, but were late.

The house had smelled strange compared to grandma's usual smelling house. There was an egg and hash brown scramble, donuts, and other things I had passed up.

I drank Apple Cider my aunt had made, commented on the fact that there was no taste of alcohol, then scared my mother when I filled the glass with regular apple juice after that, her not having seen it.

Then we drew for secret pal for Christmas, I wrote down all the books I wanted, then was sent to take the six odd cousins to the park. Kami and her brother had brought their dog Mina.

The twins and their older brother Damon had run off to the structures. Me and Kami reminisced about the wooden, maze like structure that had been there before. After that, me and Addi had been on the swings. I got up as far as I could, then jumped.

I landed on my feet, but my brown, heeled boots made a _thunk_ rather than the _shoosh_ I had expected in mulch. The walls were white, the floor covered in broken furniture and books tossed about. Glass and blood were in the opposite corner to me.

Although my eyes moved, I felt frozen. I suddenly thought of _Star Trek_, a show I had never seen, but it was constantly referred to. I slowly turned, and saw a golden screen, separating me from a walkway, and another room, like this one, but no broken furniture. A man in a gold uniform and horned helmet walked by, a spear in hand.

I spoke before I thought. "Hey!" I ran up and slammed into the gold screen.

I was thrown back, hitting the wall on the opposite side. I landed on a broken wooden leg, though thankfully not with the splintered wood towards me. The wind rushed out of me, and I attempted to gasp. The golden suited man had walked on. I attempted to swear at him, but gasped instead. I was starting to see spots just as my lungs finally took a breathe.

"Hey, I need..." But my words fell short as something seemed to dawn on me.

"Oh my god, I hit my head. That has to be it. I fell wrong or something and I'm blocking out the pain by putting myself in a secluded prison…" I stood and began to pace, pushing the larger broken pieces away with my boots. "Blocked by a force field, I guess. I got knocked back and the wind knocked out of me when my heart maybe slowed or whatever and my cousin's hit my chest like desperate people on television. That has to be it-" I tripped and landed on my hands, one side right on some bloody glass. The pain was horrible.

I screamed. Nothing bloody murder, but more outrage. I tried to think of a dream where I had pain in it but not in real life. Pulling at the glass as I bit my lip, I remembered on dream where I was going to be a tribal sacrifice because of a pain in my abdomen, but remembered that had been the beginning of appendicitis.

"Dammit. That kicks the knocked out theory, I guess. Unless someone just sliced my hand open…" I could think of none of my cousins brave enough to do such a thing.

"HEY!" I screamed again. I heard a snarled reply that didn't quite sound human and gave me a certain wave of goose bumps that I normally took as foreboding. I had taken longer routes to get home because of that certain wave. So I interpreted it as a 'be silent and careful' warning.

I squeezed at my hand and a very steady stream of blood came out. I prayed the old blood came out with it. I then covered it with my hand and thought. The cut was fleshy, and needed to be stopped before I died of blood loss. I looked at the furniture again and saw a seat cushion. I also found a long shard of glass and attempted to cut it without cutting me more.

I got two slivers of glass in two fingers, and the entire fabric of the cushion cut. I then tried to cut the splinters out, and managed to get one out. I wrapped the large cut and sucked on the smaller cut until it stopped bleeding.

I started to kick the debris to only one corner – the bloody one – and managed to find about ten books and a second seat cushion. Correction: ten books that weren't torn to shreds. I then looked at myself. I was still in my distressed zip up boots, bright aqua leggings, floral patterned skirt, brown shirt, black tank, brown-black beaded necklaces, and my long black wool coat. I took the necklaces off and set them on a ledge on the floor. The room was relatively warm, so I took off the coat, checking my pockets for my phone. It wasn't in my pocket. I still felt ridicules in the outfit, but Kami had insisted.

I sat cross legged on the floor, facing the golden wall, and set my head on a hand. I counted the amount of times the guard passed, then realized he had changed from a lighter haired fellow to a dark haired fellow around the 20th round. I then decided that each round was about the same length of time, so I counted ten seconds, ticked a finger out of my fist, and restarted the next ten seconds. Ten ticks later, he walked around. It seemed my cell was last. Or first.

It was at least on one end of the rows. I then counted his steps. They were rhythmic, each with purpose and practice. One step every second. It was perfect. I thought of soldiers. "Hu and hut 2 3 4.." I murmered before I thought about it. Again. "Or maybe it's 'Left, left, lift right left.'" I sighed, then waited till he passed my way again. "Hey, can I at least talk to someone here?"

He continued to walk on, past my cell, then a new guy moved in, red hair sticking out at his temples and a beard hanging low to his chest.

"Yoohoo…" I finally saw a reaction, a glance out of the corner of his eye, and his march took one and a half seconds rather than one. "I'm not supposed to be in here, am I?"

His march returned to the practiced one-second-every-step kind. I sighed and resumed counting his steps.

**So…it seems I have Loki Fangirl****ed. Majorly. And when I fangirl, I think of a story, and I have to write it to get it out of my head. Long term story line, I'm okay. Short term, I may need help. Please do so if you think of something. I have the utmost right to refuse or use if offered. **


	2. Chapter 2

At the tenth guard switch I knew of, I had successfully counted 25 rounds for each guard with 100 steps and 100 seconds per round. I had also seen the first guard I could remember back as the eleventh shift.

I had also memorized their uniform, and suspected it was made of gold. If it was truly a soft metal, maybe they didn't know it was a soft metal, didn't care, or maybe it coated another metal under that was stronger but not nearly as pretty.

"Are you short staffed, maybe? Perhaps a recent attack that makes you less-" I had to stop because he was out of range. I was patient – especially at this point – and waited till he came back around. "-less likely to converse with people behind this?" I waved at the gold screen. I saw his eye flicker towards me and back. "Let me guess, not a lot of people talk to you down here." I had to yell the last bit when he did walk out of range.

I was tired. The gold screen hurt my eyes and my head with it flickering sparkle pattern. I flopped back on to the floor like I had ten minutes ago, banging my head to a certain clarity that affirmed and depressed me that I was still in a reality rather than a dream.

This time, the thud hurt more, so I knew I was gaining a lovely bruise or possibly a goose egg. But I also felt sleepy, so I grabbed my coat and the seat cushion and curled up to sleep.

I woke up who knows when but to a screech that chilled me. I decided sleep wasn't a good idea anymore. At some point someone had dropped off food. The slab of meat was cold and the bread was tough. The water was strange, and I suddenly thought of barley water.

I had been a fan of Tamora Pierce's work since I was 12 and it had been mentioned. Now I thought this must be what it tastes like: The water counterpart to boiling oatmeal. I drank it all. In survival, water came first. A person could live 2-3 weeks with no food so long as they had water.

I wondered how long it would take to make meat as cold as the stuff I was eating. I estimated 2 hours, but that would only have been if they served it hot. As I chewed through the bread I thought for the fourth time why they were keeping me in here. Hell, I didn't even know how I got here, or where here was.

The guards continued to pay me no mind.

Finished with my meal, I flopped back onto the floor and picked at the wrapping on my hand. I teased it off, and blood swelled, but not at a concerning rate. I got a second bandage ready and licked the blood. I continued to do so, but it didn't ease quite like I'd hoped, so I wrapped it again.

Once a bandage was back in place, I decided to pass the time by reciting William Blake. Folding my hands under my head, I started. "Tiger tiger burning bright in the forest of the night, what immortal hand or eye could face thy fearful symmetry In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thy eyes on what wings dare he aspire what the hand dare seize the fire and what shoulder and what art could twist the sinews of thy heart and when thy heart began to beat, what dread hand and what dread feet what the hammer what the chain what the furnace in thy brain what the anvil what dread grasp dare its deadly terrors clasp and when the stars threw down their spears and watered heaven with their tears did he smile his work to see did he who made the lamb make me? Tiger tiger burning bright in the forest of the night what immortal hand or eye would frame thy fearful symmetry."

At the last line I glanced out, noticing one of the guards. He was staring at me. I sat up. He had actually stopped his marching routine. I stared, I blinked, then I waved a finger twittle and he shook his head and resumed his march. Then I thought. Had he never heard it before?

I'll admit, I was a bit of a word and story and anything-written fan. But people _had _ to have heard at least one of those lines. It was popular enough as far as I knew.

It was in books and TV shows, so did they not have TV?

I thought of how long I had been here. I estimated half an hour per shift of the guard, then my two hour nap. Around 8 hours, if I was right, longer if not. Did prisoners get out, like on TV and movies? The odd recreational breaks and socializing?

It had been around 11am when I had…fallen into this place. Add 8 hours, and it might have been 7 pm.

Only one meal had been served since I showed up. Did they run on a similar schedule?

The guard passed by again. I stood and asked "Hey, am I in America?" He frowned – the most expression I had gotten of any guard – so I tried another. "What about Earth?"

His eyebrows shot up and he stared at me, taking 2 seconds rather than 1 for his step.

My heart gave a thud greater than normal. I'd guess he knew about earth, but was surprised I knew, or even asked.

He then sped past my cell. I almost hit the gold screen running up to it. "Wha- I'm not on Earth?!"

I thought of all my wishes for portals, waking up elsewhere, or being stuck in an odd dreamland. One of those wishes might have finally come true. I decided to sit again.

**I am astounded. Not only have I gotten 65 views in the past three days, along with 2 followers of the story, but I got NO REVIEWS. No feedback. I expect more in this chapter as well as the next. Next I will introduce a few characters we know. Maybe that's all the prompt you need to give me the reviews I want.**


	3. Chapter 3

I thought of my kittens. One fluffy as hell, the other the super independent calico. I thought of my sometimes-an-ass brother. I thought of my dad, my mom, my cousins, my grandparents, my friends. What had been the last thing I said to them? Had I hugged them before I'd left? Would they be okay, would they know something happened to me? Would they know I hadn't left willingly, or would they think I ran when no one was looking?

What was the year limit until someone was announced dead? Was it 5 or 7 years?

Why the hell do I think of Batman?

The guard didn't come back for a long time. Might have just been ten minutes, might have been an hour or three. I could hear other people –things? – start to make noise and yell. There was banging on the walls. Then a multitude of marching boots.

From the side the guard had disappeared to, twenty guards came. In the middle of them all was a young man, shackled. Was the man the guard that had run up the stairs?

They walked past my cell and I stood to get a better look as they went down the hall until they couldn't be heard marching.

They came back with no unarmed guard and went back. They returned several minutes later with a woman, a tall red headed man, and a blonde man. The woman was put in the cell across from me, one man in the cell next to mine, and the other in the cell next to hers.

The men had beards and mustaches, the red heads past his shoulders, both his hair and shoulders, while the blonde – next to me and out of view – had seemed the pretty boy type, with his curled hair cut at his ears and beard trimmed.

The woman had long dark hair. She had a red shirt and leather pants with a short leather skirt over it. She paced in her cell restlessly. I sat and stared. She was beautiful, like a lethal cat. I wondered if my kittens would be cats before I figured out what the hell was going on.

Her pacing stopped. I saw her staring at me, and I wondered if her expression was that of surprise, shock, anger, or a mix.

"Who are you. You are not of Asgard." She made a statement out of a question, and I wanted to answer it like a question. But I was too full of questions myself. And I liked to irk demanding people, especially when they can't get to me.

"Is Asgard what this place is called? See, I kept trying to get the guards to talk to me, and then I asked if this was Earth but the guard _might_ have been taken to a prison cell so I'm not positive on that. Then you guys came down."

"Earth? You are mortal?" I couldn't tell if that last bit was a yell or a regular sort of tone, but it was definitely louder than her first question/statement.

"Was that meant to be insult?"

"Why are you in that cell."

Another statement question. "Haven't a clue. Do you know who was here before me? See, there's blood all about and I cut my self on some glass that was bloody and I'm just rather concerned for my wellbeing at this point. And I was wondering if people can get in, or is it as hard as getting out?"

The guy with the red beard and hair began to chuckle. "Another curious mortal. Just like Thor's."

I got goose bumps. "Thor? As in a normal guy, or the guy who was in New York and is basically a Norse god? Oh, shit."

I stood and began to pace, arms crossed and fingers tapping. Then stopped. "Wait, who was here before me?"

"Loki of Jotunheim. A betrayer."

"_Loki_ the _trickster_ god?"

The woman glared at me and hissed "What do you know of us, mortal? A mere child, barely separated from you mothers breast. I have lived more of your lifetimes than you can count, and you claim to know of us."

"Um, well, technically, we're both behind bars. Or this golden wall thing. So we're more similar now..?" Her glare might have fried me.

"Never."

I cleared my throat and tried to face the red head. "You seem to be a more cheerful sort. Might you tell me about the…wall thing?"

"I will just tell you it would be unwise to test it."

"Huh, well, that advise is several hours too late."

"Volstagg, tell me, is my neighbor as lovely as her voice?" The voice to my left attempted to be charming.

"He's not telling you," I snapped before I thought. I disliked my looks being of subject.

The redhead – Volstagg – chuckled again. "Fandral, you had best not do what you're thinking. Have you not seen what trouble Thor goes through?"

"Well not _every_ mortal is going to get the Aether." The man – Fandral – said next to me, through the wall. He might have been pouting.

**REVIEWS! Thank you! I'm so happy, even if it's just a "Love the story" or "good so far." To answer ALL of your guy's same question, LOKI WILL BE REVEALED WHEN HE WANTS TO BE. **

**Again, thanks for all your support.**


	4. Chapter 4

"How close to Thor were you guys?" I was curious. They spoke as if they knew him well. People back home might talk about him from their new-found curiosity of the superhero. I had known of him from odd stories used in books and TV shows.

"We are_ still_ his friends and trusted comrades!" Volstagg had been sitting, but now stood and gestured to him and across the hall. "We are two of the Warriors Three, and this is Lady Sif. We and Thor have fought many grand battles together. We have stopped marauders throughout the Realms, and we have – I hope – helped stop the Dark Elf Malakith from using a dangerous relic to destroy the light of the Nine Realms. Not to mention save Thor's mortal in the process." He gave a belly laugh – literally holding his belly in the delight of his story telling.

The woman – Sif – hit the wall, as if it might go through and hit Volstagg. "Be silent! She is not an Asgardian, she is not a warrior, she is not a comrade. She has no right to our lives." She then turned back to glare at me.

"I don't even know how I _got _here! You act as if I invaded and threw you in here myself! I may not be a friend or comrade but I'm _not_ an enemy!" I had resumed my pacing, back and forth, while staring at Sif. Then I turned away, faced the wall and screamed. When I was done I felt my head clear and myself relax. I then sat, facing the staring man and woman.

I turned to my hand and pulled the wrap off. The blood only welled in a spot the size of a pin prick. I clenched my fist lightly, relaxed, then I flexed with all my strength. It stretched and tore open. The blood was thin and filled the scratch. I licked it away and watched it again.

"Why do you lick the blood."

"Where does My Lady bleed from? Friends, tell me, I must know." We ignored Fandral.

Taking on the odd scare-acting I had come to love in middle school, I turned my head down and my eyes up to Sif, then grinned slowly, feeling my cheeks go up, teeth shown and lips pulled. "I like the taste of blood." Then I dropped the face and shook my hand away. "Just do. I think it helps, and you never know when someone might be ill at the sight of blood."

"_Where_ does she bleed from? My heart aches to know more of My Lady."

"Well your Lady does not wish for you to know of her." I caught the change in my speech. "Gah, now I'm talking like you. Do you have any idea how severely my speech is impacted? No, of course you don't." I purposely used the phrase. I had said it enough that it got the slight accent out of my words. "Do you guys have languages? Like how Earth has English, French, German, Russian." I thought for a moment. "Wait, do you guys even know Earth anymore?"

"As we are not _of_ Earth, it would be obvious that we do not _know_ Earth. Just as you are not _of_ Asgard, thus you do not _know_ Asgard."

"Jeepers criminy, I _know _that, you only say it _every time you speak."_ I poked at my hand. I had let the blood well enough to make a nice scab. "Why are you so…rude to me? Or is it everyone?"

I heard a sigh, and the voice to my left finally seemed normal. "She is jealous. Her love has been taken-"

"Silence! What would you know of love?! Spending every night in a different woman's company."

"But not this night." He sighed, seeming lonely.

Sif scoffed and paced in her cell just as I had moments ago. When she did stop, it was when she leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of her.

"Hey, hold up, why _are _you guys here? If you guys are great warriors like you say, what'd you do to get put in this prison?"

"As I told you, mortal girl. We, two of the Warriors Three and Lady Sif, were helping our Thor and his mortal in their fight against the Dark Elf Malakith before he destroys the light of the Nine Realms."

I was going to ask him ten new questions I had when the marching of footsteps came from my right. Ten guards came, and stopped in front of my cell. "Prisoner, Odin Allfather requests your presence."

One guard stepped forward, and he held two sets of shackles. Speaking before thinking, "You know I only have one pair of hands, right?"

Another guard stepped to the side of my cell and the gold wall fell. I stood, slowly reaching a hand forward. The screen was actually gone. And my newest bracelet snapped itself over my wrist. With a tug on the other side, he pulled me into the hall and shackled my other hand.

"What business would the Allfather have with a mortal girl." Sif leaned as far forward as she could without touching the gold screen.

The guard ignored her as he lowered to the ground and attempted to shackle my boots. But he looked up and said, "Remove them."

I pouted and picked my foot up, unzipping them. I tossed them over my shoulder and my feet slowly got cold. Then they were shackled together. I was pushed to the center of the oval-circle and lead/pushed to the right of my cell. There were two flights of stairs, one forward, then to the left. We went straight, and marched for some time.

At odd moments, if something caught my eye, I'd try to stand on my tippy-toes. Each guard was taller than my five foot four inches, so there was no surprise. But that they'd push me every time they caught me trying to look about was beginning to get on my nerves.

"So who remembers me? I think I remember you, in front and to the left. You were…the sixth shift, weren't you? All that time I asked questions, tried to know what was going on, you just had to-"

They had moved to their respected sides to reveal a door. The door was opened by one guard, and I was shoved several feet forward. I struggled to stay on my feet, refusing to let them knock me to the ground, when the door closed behind me.

In front of me were drapes loosely holding back sunlight. I could have sworn the sun would have set by now. The little light gave shape to several odd chairs, shelves along the wall, coffee tables, and books.

"You, girl, are not supposed to be here." A voice spoke behind me. I whirled, but only saw a tall person, dark clothes and darker hair.

"Well, I believe it was an Odin Allfather who 'requests my presence.'" I stepped back.

The figure moved forward. "You know very well what I mean, girl."

"Oh, you mean the whole Asgard thing. Right, see, haven't a clue how I got here. If that's all you wanted…"

He moved too far forward, and I stepped too far back. My shackles caught me, and I fell. But I tried to roll to the side, and ended up leaning against a wall. Or maybe shelf. I pushed myself up, dragging against the wall. I felt a smidgen stronger now that he couldn't sneak up behind me.

"How did you get here?" The questioned whispered throughout the room.

I found myself also whispering. "Look, I don't know. I was just swinging on the swing set, I got up high, I jumped, and I fell. Here."

He turned away and began to pace. He had placed his hands behind his back, and I _think_ I could hear the cogs turning in his mind.

There was a knock at the door. "My King. It is time to return the prisoner. "

The man stopped pacing and his voice was different. "Very well." As he spoke, there was a flash of green, pixel-like, like in _The Matrix_. Then the shadow of the man got wider, a tad shorter, and the hair lighter. The door opened and it showed an old man, hair long and white, a gold patch over his right eye, the one closest to me.

"Wha-" I was very confused. Was this Odin, or was it the other- "Wait, are you-"

"Silence!" He swung until he looked at me with his other eye. 'Guards, she may be mortal, but her words are false. I must learn how she got here. Put her back in her cell."

"My words-" But then the guard grabbed me and yanked me out of the room. It was too fast for my shackled legs, but the guard had such an iron grip on me, if he dangled me over a cliff I would have stayed upright.

**One, don't get use to the every-day-updates. Two, don't get use to long chapters. I wasn't sure how to end this one, so I made it longer. Three, thank you for the reviews! Any questions you ask, I won't answer directly. Just continue to read and I hope it'll become clearer to you. Thank you all!**


	5. Chapter 5

The weight of the shackles had left my wrists, ankles, and the top of my feet red and sore. I tried to rub them, but the pain was almost like a rug burn. "They don't shackle every prisoner up like that, do they." I looked up in time to see Volstagg shake his head and Sif turn her head away. "I _thought_ that was strange. I mean, if you all are super beings, and everyone knows I'm a mortal, what's the point? I'd be over powered by anyone, out run by anyone. Right?"

"Of course." Sif offered, in her own helpful tone.

"He asked me how I got here. Is it that serious? Me showing up? I mean, I _did_ show up in a prison cell."

"Of course it matters! What if someone learned of the weakness in our defenses. The only reason the wall is up is because it's Loki's cell. He had just broken out."

I thought for a moment. "And because he's a trickster, illusion's being a specialty, no one can trust what they see in that cell. Empty or another person."

For once, Sif didn't look at me with anger. She seemed more confused than anything. "How would you know that."

"I know a _lot _of stories. I'd have to say…I could learn a new one every day."

"You, a story teller."

"A story _teller_, maybe not. That career is harder to get into than you might think." My eyes were heavy. My limbs felt like lead, sluggish. My coat looked warm, the seat cushion comfortable.

"So people can't get in unless it's one of the guards, right?'

"It would require a great deal of force."

"So I'd hear it. That's good enough for me." I threw my coat over me and laid on the cushion, pulling my collar over my eyes to block out the white walls.

I must have been exhausted, because I didn't hear anything else until the hall was filled with even marching steps.

I wished I knew what time of day it was.

The guards split as I turned to the hall, and went in front of the cells of Sif, Volstagg, and Fandral. The walls fell as the guards said, "You are free to go. Odin has decreed any past act of treason to be forgiven."

"Ah, so Thor put an end to Malakith. Is his mortal saved, then?"

"Odin wishes you to see him immediately. He has a task for you, it is urgent."

"How the _hell_ did you get them to speak, and can you teach me?" I stretched, popping my elbows, shoulders, and stood to get to my back, knees, and an odd twist for my feet.

A wiry man jumped in front of my wall. "My Lady, at last I see you!" He looked like a French villain, but blonde and more like an Englishman. "Your beauty precedes me and my dreams, Lady. If only I could hol-"

"Go see Odin." I was getting uncomfortable. Several of the guards had turned to look at me. I turned and picked up my coat, pulling it on. "Do _I_ get to leave as well?"

"You are to remain here."

So I plopped to the ground and remained.

Glancing around my cell as the guards and Warriors and Sif greeted one another, I saw another plate of food and water. The exact same thing. So I swallowed without tasting and chewed with vigor.

I fell asleep again. I didn't think there was much else to do, and the food made me sleepy. They hadn't brought me food for quite some time, so I wondered if they fed their prisoners once a day. It made sense, in a sick way. Make them – us, if I was actually included – too weak to do anything even if they – we - did find a way out.

I woke up with someone loudly coming down the steps. It was the chains. It wasn't a troop of guards, but it wasn't anyone I recognized either. "Wake up, girl." But the _voice_ was familiar…

"What, no parade for me this time?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I wasn't." He walked to the side of my cell and the wall went away. "Perhaps a prison break."

"Not this day."

"Damn." He was good looking. Dark brown hair combed back and curling at his neck, a short beard, and bright green eyes. He was taller than me – duh – dressed in a loose brown shirt, the favored leather pants worn by _everyone _except me – again, duh – and leather boots. He was lankier than those I had seen, thinner than Fandral, and he didn't seem the warrior type any of the guards had seemed. "So if it's not a prison break, then…"

"A kidnapping, it might seem."

A wave of emptiness in my stomach made me ask "Will I get fed?"

"No."

"Then why the hell would I go?"

"As if you had a say in the matter."

He clasped shackles on me and pulled me behind him by the chain holding the bracelets together. We walked the opposite direction of the stairs I had gone to before. We walked by 5 – no 8 – make that 13 – 14 people in about 5 cells. Then it was empty ones, white walls glowing without the golden screen.

I almost ran. We were walking fast, and I didn't have shackles on my feet this time. The stretch in my legs made me want to sprint, but being that I had no idea where I was, or where I was going I tried to enjoy the pace we were going.

When the white ended, it was a stone hallway, the same grey tone that had covered the floor was now all around me, and it leaked cold.

The man stopped and tossed me forward. The hallway ended maybe 20 feet from the last white cell, and I hit the wall that ended it. The man shifted, the green pixel pattern I had seen before, and it was the same man that wasn't Odin, but I knew turned into him. "Ow. What is _with_ you people. I mean, it's not exactly the headlines, but I'm sure everyone knows I'm mortal. Apparently, I'm fragile. But not fragile enough to be tossed around and about."

"When will you _shut up_ and tell me how you got here."

I mimiced the exasperated tone in his voice. It wasn't hard. "When will you _listen_ and stop asking me that."

The man turned, and I could make out his possibly real face by the glow of the white walls. It was almost the same as the brown haired man. Thin, no beard. His hair was black but still curled. His eyes might have been more blue. His brown shirt was replaced by a green one and over it was a leather coat. He was still good looking.

"Are you truly just a human girl?"

"That's what everyone else has been telling _me,_ why would it be any different now."

"And if I said SHIELD, what would you think?"

"Um, first weapon when up against a dragon?" I suddenly remembered a Scottish man with a peg leg and hook hand.

"You think me strange for asking such a question."

"It doesn't even make the list."

"Very well." He shifted to the brown haired man again while grabbing my chain. He pulled me and put me back in the cell, the shackles popping off with no key. While the gold wall fell into place, we stared at each other.

Then he pursed his lips, turned his eyes down, and set his hands behind his back. He turned towards the stairs, and almost kicked his feet before him, obviously showing he was the one with the upper hand – and out of the cell.

"So, how should I address you, as Loki or Odin or..?"

He turned to me slowly. His eyes flashed from angry to the glimmer of amused. "Be wise how you address me, girl." Then he faced me again. "But now we are at odds -"

"I'd say I've been at odds with everyone."

"- and you know me while I do not know you."

"Would it keep you from calling me 'girl?'?"

"It might."

I huffed and looked up. I had the thought that there might not be anyone above, no more ideas of a god, when I sighed, "It's Ali."

"Ali, then. Until another time." Then he vanished up the steps.

**So I started the same diet our character is on, and it freaking SUCKS. But anyways, is me saying thank you for reviews not enough? I still have to **_**ask**_** for them? Well then, I demand reviews. Muahahaha**


	6. Chapter 6

I thought about doughnuts, cake, pancakes with chocolate chips, bacon, and coffee. I wondered if it was breakfast time, or if I was just realizing how much of a glutton I was. I could feel my stomach and gut contract, expand, then contract again. It was an especially odd feeling in my left side, just by my ribs.

I sighed. My stomach loved to be thought about, more often when actual food was involved.

I missed chocolate mousse suddenly.

Slathered in between chocolate cake and chocolate shaving crushed over top.

"I'm a pig." I sat up and started at my tights. There was a tear along my thigh. My socks were worn through, I'd guess from the stone floors. My skirt was fine. Not even dirty. My entire head felt like it was covered in oil. I took my brown shirt off and wiped my face.

Survival experts say the best way to get to thinking is to feel comfortable, including a clean face.

The empty stomach I tried to overlook.

It was difficult.

It was then I was glad I had kept my hair short. Although it most likely looked _horrible_, it wasn't in the way.

I suddenly remembered steak and sautéed mushrooms.

I grabbed my shoes, tugged them on, and stepped over to the danger zone in the corner of my cell. I found two books that were perfect. No damaged cover, the pages slightly worn where exposed.

I went to the slight ledge, by where I had set my necklaces. I sat and opened a book with a brown cover. Opening it, I found a foreign language. I tossed it back to the corner and picked up the next one. It looked more like Shakespeare.

So I sat and decided to try and decipher it. It _had_ to be better than thinking about food.

I was half way through when the smell hit me. The meat was served cold and I _still_ could smell it. Instead of eating it all at once, I took the bread and nibbled on it, heading back to read.

I tried to make the food last. I did fine for half an hour or so. Then I tasted the meat and scarfed it down.

Several pages in, I felt like my stomach got hit by a rock or a fist. I gasped at the pain and had to set my book down. The pain faded, or so I thought, when a burning pain hit me. It was far worse, and I held my stomach. Was I going to throw up my lone meal of the day? I waited it out, breathing steady. It was over after some time. With no throw up, thankfully.

Do I thank God still, or Gods?

"Gah…" I laid down on the floor and picked up the book, and prayed it didn't happen again.

I was almost done with the book – some tale about a warrior god trying to win the battle in favor of who prayed to him – when the echo and even sound of boots came down the steps and to my cell. "Is it sad that I _miss_ that sound sometimes? You guys must really like me."

"You have been summoned by the king."

"You don't say."

The screen went down and I held my arms out. The shackles clicked around my ankles and wrists, and then I was pulled into the middle of the circle. We walked up stairs, down hallways, I was pushed down when I tried to look around. Same as last time. However, when they parted to their respected sides this time, I was instead faced with "Odin" sitting on a large throne-type chair.

The old man was up on a higher platform. There was another seat to his right, empty. The guard pushed me and I stumbled just in front of him. "Why Odin, you seem older than the last time I-"

"Insolence!" He hissed the word, it echoed across the dining room. But I noticed a glimmer in the one eye. "Girl, one of my guards tells you know stories. We wish you to speak them for us."

"It's not like I'm a jester. I just recited a poem, I was bored."

"Then you will recite it again!" His tone had a certain finality to it.

I sighed, "Alright," and turned towards the staring men. I was grumpy. I hadn't bathed in some unknown number of days. My wrists and ankles hurt. But I knew how to tell a tale. "Guardsmen, one of you have heard this poem. But do you know of it? It was written over a century ago, by a man of the name William Blake. It is said he died after stumbling upon a faery funeral. Before his death, he wrote, turning questions into poems. Here is one of them." I took a breath and started the poem. I spoke the words carefully, rising and lowering my voice and hands where I thought appropriate. When I was done, they did not speak. They did not clap. They sat and stared.

I sighed again, turning towards the "king." "May I go back now?" But I heard a chair scrap against the ground. I peeked from the corner of my eye. A guard had stood.

"My Lady, may we request another?"

I pouted. "Well if you're going to make a job out of it, the least you could do is get me a better outfit." I turned back to the old man. "Maybe even fashion me some pretty shackles, something gold, maybe with _green_ stones."

His one eye squinted at me, but the twinkle had returned. "We shall see, mortal. Tell us another tale, and perhaps."

I was feeling good now. "Very well!" I turned on my toes, and grinned at the guards. They were back to sitting. "This next is more of riddle with no answer. I learned it from my grandmother, and she has no idea where she heard it from. Mayhap she forgot it." Several of the guards grinned and I winked back at them.

"'Ladies and gentleman, hobos and tramps. Cross eyes mosquitoes and bow legged ants. I come to stand before you, to stand behind you, to tell you a story I know nothing about. This one dark night, the sun shone bright! These two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other. They pulled their swords and shot each other. The deaf, um, guardsmen heard the shots and came and shot those two dead boys. Their eyes turned to lime green, their stomachs turned to whipping cream! And me without a spoon. Now if you don't believe me, just ask the blind man around the corner, he saw it all." Once again they stared.

I heard a single laugh behind me. "You shall tell more tales, girl, but no more on this night. Go back to your cell."

One guard stood and stepped forward. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me along. "So am I less of a threat, or am I supposed to be charmed."

I heard him murmur "A strange tale, but entertaining," just before he unshackled me and let me walk back into the cell room.

His footsteps went away. I sat, pulling my knees up, hugging them. All I could think about was that pig on the table.

**That pain in the gut? REAL. IT WAS HORRIBLE. AND I WAS DRIVING. So I quit the diet. I drank 4 cups of delicious coffee. It was wonderful. So for me and the pain I endured for accuracy, give me reviews. And what you think for her future career. **


	7. Chapter 7

I tried to think of what to give for a story. I could easily remember the stories for each _Disney_ movie I had seen. I quickly eliminated _Monsters Inc, Bambi, The Jungle Book, _and anything with Mickey Mouse. I doubted the story line would make much sense to the guardsmen. I considered Tamora Pierce's stories, but I'd need more than a day to straighten out and shorten any one of those stories.

I thought of the Grimm Brother fairy tales, of _Snow White_ and _Cinderella_, being that I liked those versions over the _Disney_ version, but also that those might be too lovey-dovey for the first story telling. Or only. Maybe. But I hoped not.

If story telling was going to be my ticket out, I'd do damn well. I was miserable, hungry and dirty. "Odin" hinted that it might change if I told a good story. Thinking of my cold feet, I thought of warm carpet-

Aladdin. I doubted anyone had heard of such a thing. Loki, Odin, and Thor were Norse gods, Viking gods. Tales from or even of Asia wouldn't have reached to them, even if they had paid attention to anything humans – mortals – had to say.

I'd think not, by how they acted now.

I decided not to include anything spoken but the wishes. Keep Aladdin the same. Cut out Abu. Jasmine, the sultan, and Jeffar the same, maybe embellish his staff story with the _Once Upon a Time in Wonderland_ version.

"Street urchin, prison, desert treasure trove and it collapses, Genie, tricks Genie out of sand trap, win the princess's heart as a prince, Jeffar get the lamp, Hell breaks loose, Aladdin convinces Jeffar for his last wish to be a genie, then he's trapped, and happily ever after. Yeesh."

Sleeping seemed like a good idea suddenly. I had had my nerves tested when speaking in front of the guardsmen. And it seemed the energy I got from that last meal was spent up. I just realized how cold my arms were. My brown shirt lay crumpled in the middle of the cell. My tank top was thin, and when I put my hand on my stomach, it was cool too. I pulled my coat on and zipped it from my knees to my neck, found the seat cushion, stuffed my hands in my pocket, and laid down.

For once, I dreamed. I found myself being pulled up into the sky by lights and falling up. I had gone past Earth. I was somewhere else. The sensation was falling, but not back to Earth. Like a black hole.

The wonders of dream truths.

When I landed, I was in a cage, metal bars and metal ceiling and metal floor, like a cartoon gorilla or tiger or cheetah. Loki, with his black hair and blue green eyes, stood outside, laughing at me and saying something. It fell silent on my ears. Then I was out of the cage and Loki sat on the throne as himself. He moved me on chains, like a puppet.

A hand on my shoulder woke me. I gasped and sat up. The woman who had touched me pulled her hand back, but still kneeled next to me.

The shock and surprise left me breathless. "Yeah?"

"Lady," it took me a second to realize it was me she spoke to, "you have requested to be dressed, before you entertain the guards. Is this true?"

"Wah- Oh, yeah, I think I mentioned something like that. But…" _I was just trying to pull Loki's tail._ I decided not to include that part.

"Odin has been gracious to let a mortal such as yourself be cared for so. Only one mortal has been here before you, and those were _much_ different circumstances."

"You mean Thor and the girl with the…ever? The curious mortal? Who Thor defeated Malakai for?"

Her eyes went wide. "You know not what you speak of."

The words came back to me in a flash. "Or was it the Aether and Malakith?"

I saw her hand move to slap me. Raised, flat, and inches from my face.

I looked lazily at her hand and raised my eyebrows. I turned my eyes back to her and pursed my lips. My own silent dare.

She sniffed delicately – very lady like I'm sure – and moved it to pull at a strand of my hair.

"_Nice_," I breathed to her. I looked behind and saw several guards, some watching while the rest were watching the other cells.

"Do you choose to keep it short like this?"

"Have you chosen a husband yet?"

She stiffened and I saw several of the guards flinch or cough. Now they were all turned away from the cell. I feared for my life until she stood. I stood with her, and noticed she was a good six inches taller than me.

"Guardsmen, please assist me in escorting the mortal to the room."

I held my arms out for the chains, but instead got grabbed by hands. "Did I lose the bracelets?"

"Your new chains are being fashioned at this moment. It was gold with green gems imbedded, was it not?"

I froze and had to be tugged along by the guards to walk.

Was I even considered a prisoner anymore? I thought of the dream me dancing on chains.

**Sorry for the delay. Fate decided to give a concussion. No media allowed with one. Anyways, enjoy! Review! I got, like, 3? 2? And just for fun, tell me where you think im going with this. I need help filling in a few odd spots, I might think of something with your help!**

**So Read, Review, thanks for staying with me!**


	8. Chapter 8

After stairs and hallways and a few odd doors, the woman, me, and two guards were left in a room. A hole in the floor was filled with steaming water. Various bottles were along the sides of it, and I realized it was a tub.

My stomach clenched as I realized I would bath in front of people. More specifically, men. Glancing at the woman, she had a smug look on her face.

I swallowed loudly before I asked, "Can they turn around or something?"

Now she was grinning. It was a very evil expression "I'm afraid they won't be able to do that. You must understand that they are here to watch you, and ensure you do not escape."

"Because a guard or ten on the other side of the door wouldn't stop me." I made a point of looking around at the room. Several pillars, two windows with drapes open to light the room, and the tub in the floor. The door was the only way in, or out.

"No, it wouldn't be." She used a delicate gesture towards the tub. "It's noon time. If you are to be presentable by supper, we had best get you clean."

I growled, and threw a glare at the guards. One obviously turned his eyes straight ahead of him, but being that he was maybe a foot tall – and well away from me - I turned a glare at the other guard. He met my eyes levelly.

Cheeky bastard.

I turned my glare back to the woman. Staring at her, I peeled off my tights from under my skirt. I tossed them and my socks at the woman's feet.

Her face turned calm.

I peeled off my tank top, threw it in the same pile, then – in my bra, skirt, and underwear – stepped into the tub.

'Stepped' was the phrase. As soon as the steam touched me, I decided to make a splash by jumping in. Metaphorically and literally. I was rather proud of myself at the woman's outraged cry.

Then I was enveloped in heat. The bath was wonderful, nearly perfect. A smidge on the hot side, it felt good. I was down to my nose, warming my core.

My skirt stuck to me uncomfortably. I took it off underwater and tossed it so it floated to a corner of the tub. My head hit the edge of the tub painfully when hands grabbed my hair. I was dunked under water while the woman scratched at my scalp.

I panicked when my lungs began to ache and squeeze in on themselves. I reached up – my hands unchained - and grabbed her hands, pulling.

Her hold loosened, but she landed on me. I managed to get a breathe of half air and half water in my lungs before her hands found me again.

With a gasping screech she lunged, scratching my face and ramming my head into the wall even harder than she had before.

Hands pulled me up, out of her hold. She swiped at my stomach before she caught herself.

One guard had pulled me up, and I was now dangling over the water. The other guard held the butt end of his staff in front of the woman, blocking her path of getting to me.

"If she is to die, it will be by our hand, and the Allfather's decree. Remember this, Lay Dagny." With a twist of his hand, the spear swung, the sharp head swinging by her head before being upright and by his side.

When the butt end of the staff hit the ground, the other guard let me go. I dropped into the water again, and I shot up quickly, wiping my eyes incase the woman – Dagny – tried something agan.

But it seemed the guard had taken her spirit in exchange for giving her the warning. She bowed her head to the guards, then waded over to me. "My apologies, I seem to have forgotten myself."

"The polite version of 'going crazy.'"

Her hand was raised to grab one of the bottles. Her hand flexed before she picked it up with a strange hold, as if forcing delicacy. She then looked at me, her face calm, and said, "If you will please turn around, I will wash your hair."

I eyed her suspiciously, slowly turning. I got my feet under me so I could lunge out of her reach if I needed to. But while she had been harsh – pulling and raking my hair – she was now gentle. She massaged my scalp, working up a lather.

I wasn't going to let her know how nice it felt.

"How come I'm getting help with my bath? I'm very certain I can wash myself, and you've been so _helpful._"

She tugged at a clump of my hair. A silent and obvious warning. "It would be a shame if you made a mockery of yourself before the guardsmen and warriors. The Allfather has been gracious, and expressed you be presentable. You mortals are strange, and do not know our ways, or what is acceptable."

More compliments, oh the joy. She pulled my head back. I flinched, but her hand was firm, holding my head back. Little splashes sounded, and I realized she was rinsing my hair.

She repeated the process with three other bottles. I didn't ask what they were and she didn't tell me. When the water was cold and I was thoroughly cleaned, Dagny stepped out and grabbed a sheet. She wrapped herself and grabbed another, holding it unfolded for me. Pulling myself out of the tub, I stepped into it, and she wrapped it around me.

She led me to the other side of the room while I dried myself. She sat me on a stone bench, dried and combed my hair, plucked my eyebrows, then applied an ointment to my wrists.

"So, am I really getting shackles?"

"You must. The Allfather has not decided if you are fit to be about without them, so you must have them on."

She then took the sheet off of me, and pulled at the bra strap on my arm. "What is the purpose of this?"

"It holds up ..." I looked at her, my chest, then her again.

She pursed her lips. "I see. Well, I have a breast band for you, that won't be necessary. And those, too." She waved a hand at my hips, meaning my underwear. "I also have a loincloth ready. Time to do away with those."

My heart gave a thud, and I turned to the guardsmen. She cleared her throat. Something that sounded like a laugh. "It was a jest, earlier. I will not make the mistake again. Here." She stepped in front of me with two garments in hand, pulled me up, and turned me so the guards were blocked. I gave her a small smile.

"Now off with those." I slowly complied, my eyes shifting about. When they were off, she began to wrap a long bit of fabric around my waist and between my legs. She had bent, so I crossed my arms over my chest and watched the guards at the edge of my vision. I was afraid to look them in the eyes.

When she was done, and I saw something like what was seen in Africa, she pulled another bit over my chest. It was like a strapless sports bra, or a band-o.

"There. Now time to get your clothes and chains on."

**Sorry, work and the end of the quarter are getting to me. Plus my mum stealing my laptop to play spider solitaire… Enjoy! I'm about as accurate as I can be for a fanfic. The tweezers and what else I wrote and will write, I try to check with other sites – historical ones, I swear!**

**So review! After you read, of course. Thank you, and adieu!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Being that you are not Asgardian, you do not have to dress as we do. It will also assist in identifying you, for those who have not seen your face." She pulled up a garment that reminded me of gypsy pants. They were golden and sheer. "We made garments for you similar to what you came wearing, but something not nearly as ridiculous as it."

I slipped the pants on, and although they were sheer, I twisted my hips every which way and still couldn't see my legs under the fabric. Next she handed me a green bit of fabric. When I held it up, looking at it and trying to figure out where it was supposed to go, she huffed and pulled it around my waist, tying it at my side. It was cut so it covered behind me and the top half of one leg, like a giant slit. I jumped – noticing that the breast band wasn't meant for support like my bra had – and it was like I wasn't wearing anything. The garments were very light.

Next she handed me what had to be my shirt. The same gold material as the pants, it was embroidered with bright green. The shirt was long sleeved, but a slit at the top of my arms went from my collar to my wrists, then held in place by green cords.

I was admiring the outfit, spinning on my heels and turning everywhere I could. Dagny had to grab me to sit. She started to comb my hair again, making it soft. She then started to twist it and I felt weight added. "What are you doing?"

"It is unsightly for women to have such short hair. I'm shocked it's acceptable in your realm. I'm setting your hair so it appears that you do have long hair. At least longer than what you do have."

"What is it you're putting in my hair?"

"Pins, a few jewels."

"A few _jewels,_ you say. Like it's hairspray."

"What?"

"Never mind. Are you sure I'm getting chains?" I knew it was the third time I had asked.

"Guardsman Arngierr," the name sounded like she was gargling something, "go to Master Brokk and see how it goes with the mortal girl's shackles." 'Broke' - the second name - sounded like part of 'broken' or "I'm broke, no rent for me."

I always wanted to see that movie.

The guard that had held me out of the water during Dagny and I's spat bowed and left.

"Ow." She had pulled a strand of hair attached to the soft skin by my ear.

"Be silent. Surely there has been worst pain than that that you have experienced."

I thought of my appendicitis and broken hand. "Sorry, habit."

"It's a habit?"

"Would you rather I had cried? I can arrange that."

"Be silent."

"Well you asked."

A second tug of hair from the same spot. I became silent.

"There. It is almost as if you are of Asgard."

"Was that a quip at my height?"

A different tug, not nearly as painful.

"Do I get to see me?" I looked up to my hairline, as if I turned a certain way I might see the crown of my head.

But just then the guard that had left came back. "Brokk has completed the mortal's shackles, Lady Dagny."

"Very well. It seems your vanity will have to wait till later."

"Suddenly I'm vain. And I thought 'mortal' was an insult." She pushed me out of my seated position, and I stumbled to a stand. She stepped up to me and guided me through the door, where the two guards took positions of one in front and one behind.

I decided to be silent and look around, finally being able to see without a circle of guards in my way.

Or shoving. Shoving seemed to get in the way last time.

I didn't recognize the ceiling, the way we were going. Nor did the direction seem familiar. I felt especially right when the ceiling lowered to what might be normal height back home, and very short flights of steps winded downwards. The temperature dropped, and a breeze seemed to come up and push at my face.

The clothes kept out any of this. I looked at my pants and saw they moved, but I didn't feel the wind touch my skin, or the cold sink past the material onto my legs.

Dagny's arm pulled me back when I took a step to far. A blast of heat came in the breeze now, and I saw what had to be a forge. _Lord of the Rings _and _Avatar the Last Airbender_ had helped me in knowing this. But what really tipped me off was the short man tapping away at the anvil.

_Tiger Tiger_ suddenly made a ton more sense just then. That thing had to weigh a friggin-

I blinked the intruding thought away and tried to focus on the man. He _was_ short. His waist was at the same level as the anvil, and then I noticed the beard.

"_No." _The whisper came before I could think.

The dwarf-man turned sharply in my direction, and I thought of a mix between Gimli and Hagrid. He had magnified lenses or goggles over his eyes, and he pulled them off before stomping over towards my little group.

**I…am sad? I got two reviews. The two who reviewed? BROWNIE POINTS! 100 for one of you, 20 for the other. I hope you two know who gets what.**

**I now have a legitimate question for all of you. My 25 followers and 9 favorites. Being that Ali is going to be a story teller, should I write out the story, a part of the story, or just explain how Ali is telling the story, not the story itself?**

**Would it feel like a waste, would it be a distraction, or would it be perfect?**

**I WANT REVIEWS. As much as I love seeing "cool story," that's not giving me anything. I want "lol I love (insert character)" or "I love how (someone) did (this)"**

…**if you use this as a template, I might appear out of your computer and hurt you. Just saying. But I want something along these lines. **


	10. Chapter 10

He was squinting his eyes up at me, then looking me up and down. Then he looked at Dagny and the guards before grabbing my loose wrist and pulling it down in front of him. He just happened to pull me down with him. His head was at my chest, much like how my head was at everyone else's chests. His hair was the tight-tiny curls, just like how they had portrayed it in Lord of the Rings. However, his eyes were more like the goblins in Harry Potter – pupils large and dark, however the orange furnace gave the hint they were not black. His goggles sat on his forehead, and I could see my shadowy reflection in the lenses. His hands – still holding my one wrist, twisting it to and fro – were almost the same size as mine, just shorter fingers and they were a bit pudgier.

He let go and turned away, stomp-fast-walking towards the anvil he had been at moments before. I noticed the neck strap of the apron was over his hair. It stuck out and odd strands danced around him. I saw a flash of gold shine before he turned back and his body blocked the light from hitting what was in his hand.

Dagny decided to be helpful then, hitting my shoulder before saying "Hold your arms out." I stared at her as I bent my back to where it had been when the blacksmith had pulled me. But my attention was taken back to in front of me when warm metal came around both of my wrists.

The lighting was poor. Only the furnace produced light, and it was meant to give off more heat than light. But in the low orange light, it showed the brilliant gold shackles around my wrists. In the metal, for a second I thought it was stained glass. But certain cut squares showed up in the odd green mosaic. "Oh shit, you used _emeralds._"

The dwarf snorted. "I'm no jeweler, girl. These 'nes ain't worth much compared to the 'nes my brothers mine. I pulled most out of sum ore I 'ad lying abouts. Nuthin' for gems, but they do fine for 'is." He was struggling not to brag. I knew something about emerald ore, but only that the good stuff was used to make the actual jewels. When its cut, then it's worth something.

Distracted by the dazzle, I almost didn't notice when he attached the gold chains to protruding loops on my shackles. The weight was noticeable, and I remembered something about gold being a heavy, soft metal. When I moved my arms closer to me, though, a beautiful tinkling sound seemed to wipe my head clean. "Oh my goodness, they sound _wonderful." _ I knew all three of them were staring at me like I was growing a head, but I was to focused on letting the chains clink together when I would toss them in the air.

"The Allfather requested a few things. Me 'n 'im are the only ones that could take them off. Our blood makes sure 'o that. Another, 'f any'ne tries to grab 'em, the chain expands. Like 'is." He suddenly grabbed the chain just before I could throw it in the air again. I waited to feel me go down with the sudden change in directions, but nothing happened. To me at least. The chain started to gain links, new ones appearing with a twist and a ring in the air. He let go, and the links twisted back the same way they had appeared.

"'N another t'in. That metal's spelled, so you won't be lying to no 'ne. If yer asked something, ye ain't gunna be telling a lie, ye got that girl?"

I stared at my new jewelry. "That's fantastic!" I pulled my arms to their respected sides, and found my hands stopped when they were at my side, the metal lying across my chest.

"Yer enjoying dis too much, girl." He eyed me warily. I noticed Dagny and the guard eyed me the same way.

I smiled my best smile, twisted my feet and pulled my wide pant legs, curtsying. "I see no reason not to enjoy this, Master Blacksmith."

He turned just as Dagny grabbed my arms and turned me. I could hear the dwarf muttering to himself before the _tang_ of a hammer hitting the anvil sounded again.

We went back up the steps , and I grabbed my arms at the slightly cool breeze. At the same time I was trying to remember if I knew where I was or if this was new.

I was horrible with directions and remembering them.

"Are we going back to my cell, or that room?"

"Neither. The Allfather has requested you have a room to practice and rest. We shall fetch you when it is your time."

"Aaand I'm a dog. I just get a lower and lower standard, don't I?"

Dagny stepped to the side and pulled me into a door. In the room was a fire place with a fire, a rug, two sitting chairs and a small table in between. The rug looked terrible comfy at the moment. "You will wait here. The door will be locked. It shan't be long, no more than a few hours."

"Yay." And they closed the door, clicking the lock into place.

**Okay. It's been better, it has. Well, my writing and the reviews. I know I didn't really say much, but I feel crappy the longer it takes to post something for you guys. And with the holidays here, I have, like, four Christmas's.**

**So like I said, love the reviews I got! Not quite 22 – though its more, like another 3-4 followers – but the one I got were AWESOME.**

**If you're in as a guest, try to use a name. One person posted as just Guest, and another as Guest: (their name, I'm not gunna write it). If y'all are gunna post more than once, I'd like to keep track of who says what and if they said something more than just once.**

**YES I know Loki isn't here much yet. (He's not exactly anywhere, being the awesome crazy person he is but that's a different matter entirely.) Stop. I had him as the sub character for a reason. It's all going according to plan! Well except for the long breaks in between posts but meh, I'm human.**


	11. Chapter 11

I walked around the room several times. It wasn't very big. The floor was the same stone as everywhere else but the cells. There were no windows in the room. The rug was woven, the seats a plain wood, the table to match. I decided to recite my story out loud. It was a bit of a low whisper, but loud enough I could play with my voice a bit. The second time, I started to add a leap, maybe me leaning close to a currently imaginary guard or party guest.

In my third reciting, just as I was getting to Jeffar's moment of stealing the lamp, I had just started to twirl when my door opened and closed. I spun to face whoever, expecting Dagny. Instead it was a brown haired, green eyed man.

"Oh, it's just you."

He green-pixeled to his dark haired self. "I believe I'm insulted."

"Well you should be, sneaking around like you are. I mean, two alternative faces?"

"How do you know this one is not false?"

"Well, you and the brown haired one _have_ the same face. And being that you only show that one," I pointed accusingly at him, "when I'm alone, it leads me to believe that this face is truly yours."

"As you choose." He held his hands behind his back in a practiced manor and walked over in front of the fire. "Do you think yourself prepared for your performance?"

My gut turned inside out on itself, then to lead. "As I'll ever be."

He turned and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You look different."

I looked down at myself, pulling my pant legs wide. "Well I had _better_. A bath and a new change of clothes will do that for anyone. Though a meal would top this d-" Loki waved his hand and a shimmer, like a ghost, went over the small table in between the chairs. The smell of hot meat hit me. "Day off."

I walked over to the plate of food. I could see the heat coming off the slabs of venison. I blinked, realizing that I had been eating deer meat the past few days. Besides it was a buttered slice of dark bread and a yellow chunk of… "What's this?" I picked it up and sniffed it.

"Norvegia. It's a common cheese. I rather like it."

"Well… You keep on liking it. I think I'll pass this time." I grabbed some venison and chewed on it. "So I wanna ask you something. It's been bugging me, more so than you sneaking around." I ate a corner of bread and 'mm'ed at the taste. "How come you're keeping me? I mean, I don't even know how I got here, but if you know, then you know how to send me back, right?"

"That's true, I now know how you got here, and yes, I do know how to send you back. I do find myself curious what the Bifrost would do to a human that went through it alone. However, I need you to stay."

"What for? To tell stories? There's _got_ to be more qualified people already here."

"As a distraction."

"Hmph, well, I'm not seeing it."

"It's not necessary for you to see it. Simply do as you are instructed."

"Oh so you want me to be ordered around and _do_ as I'm told. You must not know a whole lot about American teenagers, 'cause, see, we _don't _do as were told."

"You will if you wish to live."

I didn't have a response to that one. Half the meat and the whole slice of bread was gone, I was stuffed. And feeling slightly queasy. I leaned on the back of one of the chairs, held up by my elbows. "How much longer until show time?" I hoped it was a long time away.

"The meal has only just begun. Odin is sitting on his throne enjoying half of a wild boar and several tankards of ale. Do you need more time to prepare?"

"I would like more time, yes. By myself, if you don't mind." _To die in a corner, turned inside out. _The first wave of pain and cramps hit. I rested my forehead on my arms and prayed he didn't look too closely at my behavior. My cuffs rested on my cheek bones, causing pain but feeling cool. I knew the meal, much larger and fuller than the previous ones, would hurt more. I hoped it didn't cause me more pain than I was expecting.

"Very well. You may expect me to get you near the end of meal time." He pixeled back to the brown haired man and left through the door, with it clicking after he was gone. I held my breath for several seconds before I squeaked an "Oww." I walked over to the rug holding my stomach before I crumpled down.

**Again with the disappointing me. Geez. Thank you, those who did give me reviews. I always look forward to reading them. And there, your Loki time, damn beggars. I hope that the 'time' will be going by faster eventually, since were nearing the end time of the story in RL. **

**Muahaha, I'm evil.**

**Read, REVIEW and enjoy. Thank you**


	12. Chapter 12

He came back some time later. I was really missing clocks.

My pains were just a memory, and the rest of my food lay cold. "Were you not as hungry as you believed?" He didn't change back to his black haired self, though he did wave his hand, and the food ghosted – or maybe it aurora-ed – out of the room.

"I'm just taking it easy. I've been partially starved for…how many days?"

"I became aware of you five days ago. It was not my intention to starve you."

"Well from my understanding it wasn't your intention for me to be here either. So are we going now?" I inspected my clothing to see if it showed my time with the floor. I was really loving how these clothes made my hips look.

"Odin is sending out another round of ale. We have a few moments."

"Then…it's okay if I try something out?"

"Does it require that we stay here?"

"I just want to test out my chains, is all."

"Then walk." He left the door open and started down the hall. I jogged up next to him, my chains bouncing off my legs.

"So I can't _lie,_ but I'm not forced to tell the truth. If I were forced to tell the truth, I might give something away about you, am I right?"

He gave me a sidelong glance.

"But not being able to lie, that's a whole new ballgame. So let me try this. My name is Ali, I'm 18, a Sagittarius, with brown hair and gr-" My voice squeaked, broke and gone. My lips finished forming _green_ but my voice had vanished, producing no sound. I sighed in relief. "I'm glad there was no pain involved."

"Were you expecting pain?"

"It's not every day I have spelled chains put on me. Or I'm suddenly in a place known in mythology. Or I'm talking with a proclaimed god. Or that I'm a storyteller."

"What does that have to do with any of this?" He sounded very annoyed, and I was very pleased.

"That's me showing you the fault in not having these spelled to make me tell the truth." I threw my chain in the air so they could jingle down.

He gave a version of the stink eye before taking a sharp turn down the hall. I pulled the middle of my chain over my head and onto my shoulders before leaping forward besides him.

Just as he pushed open a pair of doors 20 times my height. Maybe 14 of his, but it was a pretty tall door just the same. Behind it was row after row of filled tables. The room was longer than football field, and to the left at the very edge of it was a throne, about as big as the doors I had just come through. The people at the tables were all talking loudly, reminding me of a school cafeteria.

I was feeling _tiny._

I pulled my chains off my shoulders, hoping no one noticed. I knew I was being ridicules but if someone _saw-_

Gray haired Odin was in the throne, a small table in front of him. The bones and head of a pig lay on the table, and several broken wooden mugs – were those tankards? – were on the floor around him.

Somewhere in my memory I thought of throwing down empty cups to say how good a drink was, some book I had read in a library a long time ago.

Then he stood, gesturing a hand in my direction. The room quieted instantly, and I was reminded that Odin was a king, even if it _was_ Loki in disguise of Odin. Or was it an illusion?

I looked to my right, and the brown haired Loki still stood with one hand on the door. He gave me a level blank stare, and I decided it was his own silent laugh.

I swallowed, and was happy when it didn't echo off the walls and pillars.

"My fellow guardsmen and warriors! Tonight, we have feasted, and now, our entertainment!"

_Poke the mortal! _I finished in my head. My tongue was frozen.

"Step forward, girl."

I stepped forward. I tried to act strong, shoulders back and steps as graceful as I could manage. Although I wanted to crawl under the tables, it sorta, kinda helped, maybe just a little, that I knew it was Loki running the whole Odin scene.

Just a smidge.

But my stomach was still turning inside out, and I felt my breath hitch.

I put on an easy smile, forcing my muscles into the form – a face I used with distant, unknown relatives, unknown family friends, and customers at my job.

"I see you've gathered a larger audience than the last time. If only you had told me."

"If you cannot perform before my men, there would be no point in my keeping you, much less allowing you anything in your time here."

I –unfortunately – saw his point. "Very well. If this will be my final test, let it be my best." I turned to the tables and raised my voice, trying to keep it level even as it went farther across the room. "Anything to get out of that cell and eating better food, no?"

I saw several smiles and heard a few laughs throughout the room.

"Gentlemen! Before this night, you saw me in a prison cell. Tonight, I am in this grand hall, in fine clothes, and wearing the finest metals I have ever seen in my life!" I pulled my arms wide and moved down the length of the middle table, showing the men as I went. "I have been asked to give you a story!" I gestured to myself and spun, meeting as many eyes as I could in the twirl. "A story I shall give! A story of magic and wealth, the powerful and the powerless. The cunning and the clever!

"Tonight, I tell you a tale of deserts!"

**I know, its been less than 12 hours, but I had a completely free day, it was wonderful.**

**Not a single review. I really am disappointed. Now I'm not saying this cause I can. I know there's been over 5 people that have read the latest chapter. Fanfiction is kinda cool in that way, giving us authors and writers an upper hand in these knowing-ways.**

**REVIEW. Y'all can still tell me ways to tell the story. I only have – let me check – 600 ish words written out for the beginning. Just so you can get a feel for it n' stuff.**

**I might post it tomorrow. It might be tonight if I don't get any other opinions – most of which were the half and half kinda deal. But I'm on a role, no one is gunna put out this flame. Haha **


	13. Chapter 13

I was silent for a short time. I glanced around as I walked up the lines of the tables, making sure most eyes were on me. Making sure the only thing making noise were my beautiful chains.

I made my voice carry through the room, even and informative, just a little passion.

"Once upon a time, there was a magnificent city in the desert. It thrived on trades and its merchants – their wealth second only to the sultan, their king.

"In this magnificent city, with its markets and taverns," I started to use my hands, moving them up and down as I described the different levels of the city, "with its magicians and sorcerers, in its dirt streets and wooden houses, with its rich and its poor, in _this_ city, there lived a street urchin.

"He was not the only one, no. Many children lived in the streets, orphaned by sickness, starvation, and law. He was no exception to the rest, his mother dead ten years to a fever that ravaged the city then. He was no exception by means, either. He stole to eat, he stole to stay warm, and he trespassed, hiding in buildings to sleep at night.

With each point made I gave small gestures, shaking my head or wiggling my fingers at the imaginary child.

"At the age of seventeen though, he believed himself clever. He could run the streets as the sultan's men chased him, while he laughed. He had never been caught, and always knew to steal from new merchants and sellers. The rest knew his face by then, and had come to cheer him on, with a few bets added, wondering how or if he would get away."

I paused. Aladdin had gotten his introduction, and I wanted to make a point that his was done. I took some time to look at my audience. Some sipped from their tankards; others had physically turned in their seats to face me. I wondered how many times they had done so as I made my rounds through the table lines.

"In the very different part of the city, in the gold towers and white plastered palace that looked over the city, there was the sultan and his daughter.

"His daughter was as beautiful as she was spoiled and stubborn. She was the only child to the Sultan; his wife dead shortly after his daughter was born. His grief and his kingdom prevented him from finding another wife, and now his daughter was of marrying age.

"Princes of other kingdoms came from all over the world, trying to win over the beautiful, stubborn princess. But she turned most away, and chased the rest out." Several of the guards smiled at this. I thought of Sif, and had to smile myself.

"When she was not being counseled by her father or his advisors, or in the presence of princes, she was found looking towards the sky in the tallest tower, looking over the city, or trying to look over the walls that surrounded the palace." I mimed Jasmine a bit, pretending to look out a tall tower or at the sky, hand over my eyes to block the imaginary sun. "She wondered about life beyond the walls. Advisors and princes bored her, and she had never left the palace grounds.

"She was not the only one in the palace with dreams, however. Another, his dreams of power, was a dark and twisted man.

"Jeffar was the sultan's highest advisor. He had not come from money or titles, like the other advisors. He had gained his position with tricks, deceit, and his sorcery. With him he carried his magic staff, a golden snake as the head with ruby eyes." I made the image of the staff with my hands, the top just short of my own height.

"His greatest weapon was this very staff, as he could control the will of any who looked into the snakes eyes. But sorcerers were not the only ones to own and wield magic. Magical objects could be bought and sold, to whoever could afford the price.

"However, a much rarer magic was also in this kingdom: the magic of wish granting. Powerful, grand being's called Genies hold this ultimate power, but at a great cost. They are confined, bound to objects, small things like rings, containers, and oil lamps.

"These objects seemed benign, ordinary. Most who saw such an object might toss it aside, not knowing what creature was attached to it.

"Whoever did find these objects – whether knowing or unknowing – and could awaken the genie, they would be granted three wishes." I showed the number with my fingers, using the German version I had learned from _Inglorious Bastards,_ holding down my thumb and index finger, palm towards me.

I spun slowly around the room with my three fingers showing. I wondered what some of these men might wish for. I decided to let some time pass. The story would begin soon, and I wanted their attention when the time came. I walked, letting my chains be the only noise.

"Jeffar knew of such an object" I saw a few men flinch when my voice broke the silence, "and where it was, hidden away in a desert treasure cave. But _he_ could not enter the room. Only one could enter, one whose worth was greater than his seeming worth.

"Using his magic, he learned of a street urchin."

I had finished my introduction. I could see it on their faces, and they knew there was much more to the story. I glanced at Odin, my body and face was towards him, but my eyes looked at the brown haired Loki. I gave him a victorious smile, and then turned back to hooked audience.

**Like I said, I had 600 words written out already. I've been done, and y'all are getting too slow for me.**

**Mehhe. Mehhehehehe –(ifyouknowwherethislaughisfromtellmeitsinmyheadnowanditwontgetout!IMGOINGINSANETHANKSFORTHISLOKI)**

**I WANT REVIEWS. Let me know how you liked the beginning of my story. Want me to keep it like this, or just explain how she says it now? From here on that part will be easy. The scene is set. **


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